Free Burned (Vanessa Pierson series Book 2) by Valerie Plame, Sarah Lovett

“Under the guise of giving, he wants something in return.”
    “He wants your help—and what else?”
    “My help and . . .” She shook her head, closing her eyes against the flash of recall, the sense of violation at Bhoot’s questions, his prying . . .
    Already she felt herself censoring what she could reveal to Chris—it was always that way in her work, having to think about what she could say to whom, never quite relaxing, but this was worse.
    “Goddamn it, Vanessa, in front of my own eyes, I can see you fall into his trap. He singled you out, you feel special, and it’s all pure manipulation.”
    Chris looked at her, but really he was lost in thought—registering what some sort of alliance with Bhoot might gain for the investigation. “What else did you get from the call? What proof it was him? What did he sound like? Could you record him?”
    “No, not quick enough.” Still on her feet, she closed her eyes, pulling nicotine deep into her lungs. It felt extravagant to smoke again. “Maybe he used a Skype link or something like it and the effect was whispery. He had a British accent. I’ll bet a hundred euros it’s real. But, then again, the precise way he pronounced the words makes me wonder if he’s ESL.” Her words flowed out with the stream of exhaled smoke.
    “Listen, Chris. I’ll transcribe my notes so you can read them. The last thing he says is a bit cryptic.” She checked herself, returning to a whisper. “But I’m sure it’s a reference to Dieter Schoeman. He wants me to make contact—maybe Dieter knows about True Jihad . . . maybe he knows who stole the device.”
    “If it was even stolen,” Chris said, almost spitting out the words.He calmed himself, speaking quietly again. “All of this could just be
Bhoot’s
diversion, a way to throw us off track as he brokers some deal.”
    “Maybe you’re right. But what if Bhoot is telling the truth?” Vanessa’s fingers closed around Chris’s arm, and she whispered to him: “
Someone betrayed us both—
he used those exact words. So what if the mole has moved on from selling secrets to Bhoot? What if he’s selling them to True Jihad? What if that’s how they got their hands on Bhoot’s prototype?”
    “Whoa. A big what-if,” Chris said. “You’re running away with this based on no hard facts.”
    Vanessa moved restlessly around in the small space. “No, listen, the mole
has
to be involved—whether he betrayed me to Bhoot again or to True Jihad, my meeting with Farid was top-secret, so it’s just like last fall, the mole targeting me and my assets . . . except it’s not exactly the same.” She turned to Chris but barely saw him, she was so caught up in trying to track her way through the mental maze. “Okay, the mole exposed me, but if Bhoot isn’t lying—and my gut tells me Bhoot might be telling the truth about this one thing, about both of us being betrayed today—then the game has changed. I thought it was Bhoot’s mole, but—” She broke off.
    “If you’re right about the mole changing the game,” Chris said quietly, “and you better hope you’re not, then you’re caught between these two men, you’re right in the middle.”
    “Cat and mouse,” Vanessa murmured.
    “And you’re the cheese,” Chris finished. “But, Vanessa, this is all pure speculation,” he cautioned. “Until we prove what’s true and what isn’t, we are guessing.”
    But Vanessa didn’t hear him because she was still following threads. “So True Jihad . . . the mole is selling top-secret intel directly to these terrorists?”
    Chris shook his head. “Don’t get ahead of yourself—”
    “I need to talk to Dieter, ASAP.”
    “You’re not going anywhere until we arrange your entry into Belmarsh through channels with the Brits, Vanessa. And here’s how we play it beyond that: You tell no one that Bhoot contacted you. We monitor you at all times. We get you a micro-recorder; it will at least catch half of the